A Change In Time
by CookieNotes
Summary: Amélie Lacroix never killed her husband. Gabriel Reyes was never killed or claimed to be deceased. They were never snatched into the claws of Talon. Lena Oxton was. So was Strike Commander Jack Morrison. They were caught. And they may never escape.


When Lena wakes, it's to the dreadful sound of a blaring alarm clock. Her alarm clock.

She huffs.

Oh! what a wonderful way to start off the morning.

She groans and rolls onto her side, wrapping herself in her blankets. She hates- no, _loathes_ her alarm clock. And whoever invented them in the first place. She takes in a deep breath through her nose, feeling it twitch from the amount of dust in her room. She would have to do something about that later, maybe call in a janitor or one of those small robot thing-a-majigs. She watches, slumberous, as dust particles maneuver themselves around the dimly lit room, landing on whatever platforms they could find.

The thought of having to wake up so _early_ again was horrendous (wretched alarm clock, always having to wake her up from her bliss). Sleep was now addicting. Before, hearing the word sleep would have brought her dread, like a child hearing the words 'Nap Time'. But now, everything was different. Sleep was a drug. Her bed was her dealer and her alarm was the police (and it never liked to play good cop).  
There has not been one moment where she could take a proper breather.

Like, honestly, can't a girl just have her beauty sleep? Even cadet training wasn't as tiring as this.

After accepting an invitation to join Overwatch (oh, and it was hard not to, with their fancy little envelopes and bright, shiny seals), her schedule had become awfully hectic. Not even a week after the initiation ceremony, she had been put active. She's had to escort, defend and destroy payloads, people, and omnics alike. All the missions, hunts and patrols left her feeling pooped. Not to mention being sent abroad for The Slipstream Training Program. Like, why ca -

Oh, wait a minute.  
She blinks once, then twice and rubs her eyes.

Hold up. Slipstream?...

She rubs her face in distress, realizing her mistake.

Rising swiftly from her bed, she slams the snooze button on her alarm clock. How could she have forgotten? Today was the day she was going to fly _The_ Slipstream! The reason she was called to Overwatch! The reason she had to train abroad! The reason she had to _study while abroad_! (Studying, mind you, was just another thing on the list of 'Things that Lena Oxton _Loathes_ ')

She runs a hand through her chestnut hair, quickly thinking up a morning agenda. It was 4:27 and the test run would begin at around 6:30, when conditions were appropriate for flight. So... 15 minutes in the shower, 5 minutes to get dressed and look decent, 5 minutes to take a quick morning meal from the cafeteria and 10 minutes to get to the hangar.

35 minutes. If everything went smoothly, she would be able to get there around 5:02, giving her time to be able to review the flight plan, speak to the commander and get comfortable with the setup. 35 minutes. Can't be that hard, right?

As she dashes towards her bathroom, she sets a timer on her holopad, making sure she doesn't overstay her time in the shower. After she finishes rinsing, she turns the knob, taking a glance at the shower head (hey, even agents had water bills to pay). She brushes her teeth and then blow-dries her hair, making sure it had her signature poof.

Humming a little tune, she searches through her closet to find her uniform. A newly washed uniform is found at the back of her closet, probably put there by one of the service omnics. She changes into her uniform - A pair of grey trousers and a grey jacket, with an Overwatch insignia near the top left shoulder - and jogs out her dormitory and into the halls of the base.

The hustle-bustle of the base was something that Lena easily got used to. It was nothing like what her previous army camps had been like. Here, there were researchers and scientists, who were always chattering about their latest experiments and theories. There were also people here who knew how to speak what Lena liked to call _human_ ; as if they were nothing but civilians. They knew how to engage in conversations without shouting out orders or speaking like a record on repeat- unlike a specific Broody Mr. Grumpy Pants.

She takes a turn into the large, tiled kitchen, breathing in the wonderful aroma (she was thankful that meals here were not like the meals in other army camps) She swipes a blueberry bagel, cream cheese and a white plastic knife to spread the cheese with. It was a shame that she wouldn't have enough time to toast it, bagels were truly tip top when warm (What a cruel world, not giving her any time to spare). Lena announces a quick thanks to the chef for always letting her ransack the kitchen instead of wait her turn in the cafeteria. He smiles back, wishing her good luck while flying.

Exiting the kitchen, she makes her way outside. She takes a glance at her watch, reading 4:54 AM.

The sky was a purple colour, simmering down to a pink and yellow on the horizon. Wind blew through her hair, giving her a bit of a chill. She sprinted down the cement pathway, greeting fellow agents on their morning jog. She prayed that her flight would go well, she really wanted to impress the higher ups (or at least be somewhat acknowledged by them). Fortunately, she had a certain charm around others. Even some of the Blackwatch agents allowed a small smile at her antics (only when Mr. Broody Pants wasn't around of course.).

Determination filled her as she strutted up to the entrance of the hangar. She felt nervous and excited at the same time, butterflies in her stomach fluttering in anticipation. She checked her watch, seeing that she was on time.

This was it. She was ready.

* * *

 **Hey! So, I meant to post this around May, when the Overwatch community didn't have as many stories. But I got an account later than expected, so yeah. Anyways, first fanfic, so criticize me! Constructive please, not some random junk. Don't be afraid to review. Thanks!**


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